Hiding
by Helena L
Summary: In the days following the destruction of the Star Forge, Revan discovers how Bastila fell to the Dark Side. LSM Revan, as with my other stories.
1. Part 1

A/N: Having to be funny all the time gets immensely tiring after a while, so I started writing this as a break from my KOTOR  
parody. It's not a funny story (at least not intentionally), so if you're looking for something like YAKP, be warned. All reviews gratefully accepted...

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**Part 1**

Looking back, he couldn't think when he'd first started to love her. It might have been on Kashyyyk, where they had finally stolen the kiss that both of them had secretly longed for. It could have been back on Tatooine, when he'd found her sitting silently in a dark corner of the ship, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she gazed at her dead father's holocron. Or perhaps it went as far back as their first meeting on Taris, where, despite the scornful arrogance with which she had treated him, he'd found himself drawn to her in a way which was both infuriating and impossible to explain.

He knew now that her coldness was just a front, a defence mechanism to conceal her own doubts and fears. She'd been terrified by her feelings for him, the man who had almost destroyed the galaxy; she'd feared that he would return to the Dark Side, and take her with him. As he drew closer to her, slowly coming to understand her constant struggle against her darker emotions, his initial feelings of irritation had faded – gradually replaced by compassion, respect, and eventually love.

He hadn't realised how much he loved her, however, until their interrogation aboard the _Leviathan_. He still winced at the memory of her horrible screams and Saul's cold, detached voice, tormenting him with the knowledge that he was responsible for her suffering. He had _felt_ her pain, sharing each searing jolt of agony which convulsed her body, and at that moment he knew he would rather face any torture the Sith could devise for him than see her hurt like that again.

Yet now, again, he could sense that she was suffering. Not physical pain, but a sort of spiritual ache: shame, misery, guilt. Feelings that he was all too familiar with himself, yet he knew that in a way it must be worse for her; he could barely remember anything of his previous life, whereas Bastila's memories of her fall to the Dark Side were all too fresh in her mind.

He longed to comfort her. But since they escaped the Star Forge she had barely spoken to him or any of the others; she had shut herself up in her cabin and remained there for the rest of the day, not even coming out for meals. Sensing that she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, he had so far resisted the temptation to go to her, but it was becoming harder and harder – especially now, at night, when he had nothing to distract himself with.

Sighing, he leaned back and rested his head against his arms, wondering what to do. He was still deep in thought, when a harsh, metallic voice broke through his reflections. "Query: Are you in any distress, master?"

Startled, Revan sat up and looked across at the sleek, copper-coloured droid which stood patiently by his door. "HK, I thought I asked you to turn yourself off?"

"Answer: No, master, you gave me no such order." The droid swivelled his head slightly towards the door. "Since this ship contains a considerable number of unfamiliar meatbags, I assumed that you wished me to stand guard."

Revan couldn't help smiling. "There's no need to be so suspicious, HK. Everyone here is part of the Republic."

"Explanation: I am always suspicious of organic meatbags, master. They are most infuriatingly unpredictable." The Jedi smiled faintly, but made no reply. After a minute, HK continued: "Observation: You appear dissatisfied, master. Is something causing you distress?"

"Bastila..." Lost in his own thoughts once more, Revan was barely listening to HK, but the droid's eyes lit up with a fiery glow at the mention of Bastila's name.

"Query: Would you like me to dispose of her for you, master?"

"I – what? No, of course not!" Revan struggled to conceal his irritation. There were times when he found his assassin droid's almost insatiable blood-lust amusing, but this was not one of them. "I don't want her 'disposed of', HK, now or at any time in the future. Understand?"

"Acknowledgement: Perfectly, master." The droid spoke with the weary resignation of one indulging a child's whim. Revan's mind was clearly elsewhere, however; he sat hesitantly on the edge of his bed, drumming his fingers against the covers. After a minute, he appeared to come to a decision.

"I'm going to see her." He stood up and began to put on his robe. "You can put yourself into sleep mode, HK."

"Acknowledgement: Very well, master. As you wish."

HK-47 stood in silent contemplation as Revan left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Despite his fondness for his master, HK found himself forced to admit that the former Dark Lord appeared no less illogical than any of his fellow meatbags. If the Jedi Bastila was a problem, why not simply eliminate her? His best guess was that the two humans were engaged in some kind of elaborate mating ritual, though how organics ever managed to reproduce in this manner was beyond him. He sighed and, with the mechanical equivalent of a shrug, switched his central processor into standby mode.

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Bastila was curled up in an armchair in the corner of her room, her robe wrapped tightly around her. She hardly knew herself how many hours she had been sitting there, barely stirring, her eyes fixed vacantly on the opposite wall. Even when Jolee knocked on her door earlier in the evening, she had remained immobile, silently willing him to leave her alone. 

"_Bastila? I've brought you some food. Try to eat something, kid..."_ She'd waited until she heard his footsteps retreat down the corridor before retrieving the tray. The food still lay on the table by her bedside, stone-cold and untouched.

She couldn't face leaving the room. The evening before, when the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ had been taken aboard the Republic's flagship... she'd heard the muttered comments of the troops who accompanied them, felt the hostile eyes burning into her as she walked past. And what was worse, she couldn't blame them – they knew nothing of what she had suffered in the Temple, or the tremendous struggle which had taken place within her on board the Star Forge. To them she was simply a traitor, yet another so-called 'hero' who had betrayed the Republic...

But it was the reactions of her own friends that she truly dreaded. None of them had said much to her on board the _Hawk_, but the expressions on their faces spoke volumes – Carth's quiet disappointment, Canderous's scorn, and worst of all, Mission's well-meaning sympathy. She could have endured almost anything else – anger, blame, reproach – but she couldn't bear to be pitied, as if her crimes had been the act of a foolish child who didn't know any better. And so she hid in her room, hating herself for her cowardice, yet unable to stand the thought of compassion from a girl a decade younger than her.

And then, of course, there was Revan. She'd been avoiding him as well, though not for the same reasons. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him; in a way there was nothing she wanted more than to be held and kissed by him as she had been on the Star Forge, sheltered in the warmth and safety of his arms. Yet at the same time she dreaded it, because she knew what would inevitably follow...

The sudden disturbance in the Force, though slight, made her tremble. Oh, gods, he was coming here... could he have realised that she was thinking about him? She shook her head and breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself. Even with the growing strength of the bond between them, it was hardly possible that he could read her thoughts.

She could feel his approach, even before she heard the footsteps and the soft knock on her door. "Bastila, it's me. May I come in?" She did not reply immediately, but hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the control panel which would unlock her door. Finally, with a strange sense of resignation, she softly tapped the button and watched the door slide open.

The room seemed to flood with warmth as Revan stepped through the doorway. He wore nothing but his robe over a pair of leggings, and she couldn't help feeling a tinge of excitement at being so close to him. As he entered his eyes fell upon the tray by her bedside, and he shot her a dismayed glance. "Oh, Bastila. You haven't been eating?"

"I wasn't hungry." She turned her head away slightly, unable to meet his eyes.

He walked over to her chair and bent over her, his face anxious and troubled.

"Why have you been hiding from me, my love?"

Bastila shifted uneasily. "You know why."

"No, I don't," he answered honestly. "Look... I know you're feeling guilty about what you did, but I don't blame you for it. None of us do..."

"Well, you should." She spoke sharply, looking directly at him for the first time. "I'm not a baby, Revan. When did I stop being responsible for my own actions?"

He shook his head. "You know that's not what I meant. Bastila, you were tortured and brainwashed by Malak. Even Masters have fallen to the Dark Side under torture –"

"But it wasn't that." Her voice was beginning to tremble. "It wasn't torture that caused me to fall, it was my own pride, my... stupidity. You don't understand..."

"So explain it to me," he said quietly.

She winced. "No. Please, Revan, don't make me talk about it."

Revan sighed. "All right, I won't... but please, you have to stop tormenting yourself like this. You've suffered enough already."

"I deserve it," she muttered, dropping her eyes again.

"No, you _don't_." Revan's eyes flashed. "Look, do you think I didn't feel the same way when I found out I was the Dark Lord?" His voice grew lower and harder. "I wanted to kill myself, did you realise that?"

She looked up at him, startled. Rather more calmly, he continued, "But I didn't, because I realised that it wouldn't change anything and it wouldn't help anyone. What's done is done, Bastila – all we can do now is try and make up for the damage we caused. Understand?"

Tears pricked her eyes. "I know you're right, Revan, but it doesn't make the guilt any easier to stand."

"I know," he said softly. "That's why I'm here." He reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "Let me comfort you, Bastila."

His touch was like an electric shock. She shrank back involuntarily, causing Revan to drop his hand in surprise. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." She flushed deep red, mortified by her lack of self-control. "I'm sorry."

Revan took her face in his hands, gently turning it back towards his. "You're afraid, aren't you?" he whispered. "I thought you told me you weren't afraid any more."

"No, I..." All at once she was gripped by the same sense of helplessness that always came over her when she was near him, as if some force far more powerful than either of them were pushing them together. Suddenly all she wanted was to yield to the inevitable, to get the worst over with. After all, how bad could it possibly be?

She pushed his hands away and stood up so quickly that he had to take a step backwards. "I'm not afraid." Her voice was no longer hesitant, but clear and resolute. "Kiss me, Revan."

"Bastila –"

She put a finger to his lips. "Please. Just kiss me..."

Needing no further invitation, Revan drew her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. Calming waves of Force energy pulsed through her; pain, guilt and fear began to drain away as his strength flowed into her through their bond, and suddenly she was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of elation and relief. What had she been so afraid of? He was so kind; of course he wouldn't do anything to harm her.

They stood there together for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, with an effort, Revan broke his lips away from hers. "Better?" he murmured. She nodded, unable to speak, and rested her head against his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful..." His voice was a hoarse whisper. Before she could respond he had bent her over backwards and was kissing her again, harder and deeper. She slipped her arms up around his neck and closed her eyes, oblivious to anything but the warmth and tenderness of his embrace. A faint groan escaped her as his lips gradually explored her mouth, her face, her neck...

He ran his fingers down her spine, and a shudder of desire ran through her whole body. She opened her eyes and looked up into his face; he was gazing down at her, a silent questioning in his eyes. She could sense how much he longed for her, and suddenly she felt an intense ache of love for him. He had risked everything for her; how could she deny him this?

She nodded wordlessly, and his face lit up with joy. Momentarily releasing her from his grip, he slid her robe from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to the bed and tossing her down on it in one fluid motion. She gasped, breathless with anticipation and a twinge of fear.

Revan pulled off his own robe and flung it over a chair; a moment later he was beside her, pulling her against him, burning lips pressed hungrily against hers. She felt his hands begin to caress her, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her body, and heard him breathe her name. Then suddenly he was half on top of her, kissing her with a fierce intensity that almost frightened her, fumbling with the buttons of her nightdress –

– _and she was lying on the floor of her cell in the Temple, faint from hunger and lack of sleep, the cold, rough flagstones digging into her back. Faces swam above her – Malak, somewhere in the background, and two Dark Jedi, their eyes hard and glittering behind their face-concealing masks. One of the men held her down, pinning her arms behind her head; the other was knelt over her, pulling at the belt of her tunic..._

"_No!" She struggled frantically, but days of torture had left her weak and exhausted, and they'd put some kind of collar on her which prevented her from using the Force... "No, please! Help me!" Her screams echoed uselessly around the thick stone walls; no one was there to hear her, or care if they did. She saw the mocking glint in the Dark Jedi's eyes as he ripped open her tunic, clawing at her skin with his hands –_

"No... NO!" She struck out wildly at her attacker, tearing her lips away from his, trying to push the heavy body away from her. He grunted in surprise, and she felt his grip slacken. "_Get off me_!" she howled, blinded with tears, and in one last desperate attempt to free herself she flung a burst of Force energy at him. There was a crash, a cry of pain...

Bastila opened her eyes. She was not in the Temple, but lying on her bed in the security of her own cabin. Malak and the Dark Jedi were nowhere to be seen, but on the floor opposite her was Revan – Revan, gazing up at her in utter bewilderment, his face white with pain and shock. He was panting heavily, too badly shaken to speak.

"Bastila..." he managed at last. "Bastila, what the _hell_?" She could not reply; the enormity of what she had done was only just beginning to dawn on her. "I thought – I thought you wanted..."

"Revan –" She tried to speak, but he wasn't listening. Painfully he dragged himself to his feet, still struggling for breath.

"You didn't have to do that." He was trying to stay calm, but his voice trembled with anger. "I would never hurt you, Bastila. Never. You didn't need to use the Force against me –" Again she attempted to speak, but he had grabbed his robe and was already striding towards the door. "Never mind. Forget it. I... I think I'd better just leave, hadn't I?"

The hurt in his eyes was more than she could bear. She leapt off the bed and threw herself in front of the door, blocking his way. "No, don't! Revan, please, I'm sorry..." Revan was staring at her in disbelief. _He must think I'm completely mad..._

"Please," she tried again, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. "It wasn't your fault. I - I thought I'd got over it..." Tears were welling up in her eyes, and her throat ached so badly that she could hardly get the words out.

Revan was still gazing at her in bemusement. "What? Got over what?" A sudden suspicion began to dawn in his face. "Bastila, _what happened to you_ _in the Temple_?"

She couldn't speak, but the look on her face told him all he needed to know. He groaned and sank down onto the bed, lowering his head into his hands. "Malak?" he muttered, almost too quietly to be heard.

"His men. Two of them –" Bastila got no further. Her strength gave out and she collapsed onto the bed, choking with sobs, barely able to breathe. Revan pulled her into his lap and held her close, cradling her shuddering body in his arms.

"Oh, no. No. Oh, Bastila..." He looked utterly sickened. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I couldn't." Her face was hidden in his robe, as if she could hardly bear to look at him. "I didn't even want to think about it, Revan. I felt so... dirty. So ashamed. And I thought –"

"What did you think?"

She raised agonised eyes to his. "I thought... you might not want me any more if..." Her voice trailed off as she saw the expression on his face.

"You thought that?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You honestly believed I would be that... that _cruel_? That shallow?"

She groaned. "I don't know what I thought. Oh, Revan, I'm sorry..."

Revan heaved a sigh. "Listen to me, Bastila," he said gruffly. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn't your fault. And _nothing_ those bastards could do to you would ever make me abandon you or stop loving you. Understood?"

She nodded mutely, and he held her for a while in silence, gently stroking her hair. "How can I help you?" he murmured eventually.

"Just... stay with me." He made no answer, but continued to clasp her to him as if she were the most precious thing he could imagine, burying his lips into her hair. Finally the tension in her body began to relax, and her breathing grew slower and quieter; physically and emotionally exhausted, she had fallen asleep.

Revan laid her carefully down on the bed, drawing the covers over her. He gazed down at her face, still pale and wet with tears, trying vainly to comprehend what she must have been through at the hands of the Sith. He knew how proud she was, and how sensitive; to be treated like that must have been an unimaginable humiliation for her. No wonder she had fallen to the Dark Side...

He felt a sudden burst of fury – at Malak, at the men who'd hurt her, but most of all at himself for failing to protect her. He'd told her mother he would take care of her, and how had he lived up to his promise? By letting her sacrifice herself to save him; by abandoning her on board the _Leviathan_, leaving her to be tortured and raped while he played at being a Sith on Korriban. She had finally overcome her fear and mistrust, allowing herself to fall in love with him against her own better judgement – and he'd screwed it up, just like he'd screwed up everything else in his life.

A horrible thought struck him. Had he committed similar acts of cruelty himself, back when he was the Dark Lord? Just thinking about it made him want to vomit. Even if he hadn't, it hardly mattered; the knowledge that he had been capable of it brought home to him, more forcefully than anything else could, just how much of a monster he had been.

What would he be now, if she hadn't saved his life? A tortured spirit like Ajunta Pall, drowning in hatred and darkness? He'd been a traitor, a brutal, murderous tyrant – if anyone had ever deserved such a fate, it was him. Yet she'd risked her own life to save him, to give him another chance...

He clutched her to him, holding her so tightly that she whimpered in her sleep. _I won't leave you again, Bastila. Never again... _Almost as if she had heard him, she murmured something and slipped an arm under his. Sighing, he laid his head down next to hers and closed his eyes, letting his thoughts wander until he himself finally drifted off into sleep.


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

_Darth Revan marched down the corridor towards the ship's medical bay, a coldly ruthless air of purpose in his every movement. The Sith medics started in alarm as they heard his footsteps approaching, and nervously averted their eyes as the tall, cloaked figure swept into the room. "Well?" he demanded, without a pause. "Is he conscious?"_

_Swallowing his fear, the chief medical officer forced himself to meet the eyes behind the evil-looking red mask. "Yes, Lord Revan," he replied. "Fully conscious." _

"_And in pain?"_

"_I believe so, my Lord." _

"_Good." Without another word, Revan strode off towards the operating room. Heaving a collective sigh of relief, the medics returned to their work._

_The Dark Lord entered the dimly-lit room with a slow, heavy tread. Malak was lying motionless on the operating table, a medical droid still hovering over him; his face was twisted in pain, and he was breathing heavily. Smiling grimly, Revan removed his mask and switched on the light above the table._

"_Well, my 'friend', how are you feeling?" Malak blinked in the harsh light, raising his fingers to his chin. His hand jerked back when it touched the cold metal._

"_My – my jaw..." He could hardly speak. _

"_You tried to kill me." Just for a moment the hard mask slipped from Revan's face, and his eyes blazed with anger and bitterness. "You tried to kill me, Malak."_

_Malak's voice was barely audible. "I thought... stronger..."_

_Revan snorted. "Stronger? Don't make me laugh. I could take you with both hands tied my back." He leaned over his apprentice, a savage light in his eyes. "I'm letting you live because you're more useful to me alive than dead. But if you ever try anything like that again you will die... slowly. Understand?"_

"_Yes..."_

"_Yes, what?"_

_Malak grimaced, forcing out the words with an effort. "Yes, Master."_

"_Good." The door slammed. _

Revan woke with a start, his heart racing. It wasn't the first time a fragment of memory had broken through the fog that shrouded his past life, but there had never yet been one so clear, so intact. So that was how Malak had been so disfigured...

Had all those thoughts and feelings, which now filled him with such revulsion, really been part of him? When he thought back to the dream it was like looking at another person, whose motives and emotions were utterly foreign to him. He shivered and tried to push the memory to the back of his mind, wanting only to forget that it had ever existed.

Bastila was still nestled in his arms; he could feel the soft curves of her body against his. He opened his eyes and looked down at the sleeping woman, brushing a hand over her damp skin. Lying there with her long hair strewn over the pillow, she looked painfully fragile and vulnerable, and for the first time he noticed the faint marks of Malak's tortures on her bare arms and neck.

His heart swelled with fury. How dare anyone ill-treat her, how dare they degrade her in this way? Just the thought of anyone else's hands touching her was agony to him. Suddenly he wanted her so badly that it was almost too much to bear, and he lay back with a groan. He couldn't stay here any longer; it would drive him insane...

Sighing, he disentangled her from his arms as and slid off the bed; to his relief, she did not wake. He arranged the covers over her as carefully as possible, then leaned over and kissed her very gently on the forehead. She smiled contentedly in her sleep as he crept over to the door and quietly stole out of the cabin.

He had hoped to return to his room without being seen, but luck was not with him. As he stepped cautiously out into the corridor, he was immediately confronted by the sight of Carth Onasi walking towards him from the other direction. The Republic soldier smiled briefly at him and then paused, a slightly confused expression coming over his face.

"Morning, Revan." His eyes slid over to Bastila's door. "Um... isn't that Bastila's room?"

Seeing no way out, Revan nodded. Carth's glance took in his dishevelled state and lack of clothing, and curiosity got the better of politeness. "Did you two... er...?"

"No, we didn't," Revan replied shortly. Seeing his friend's skeptical expression, he went on quickly: "She – she was having nightmares and I went to comfort her, that's all. OK?"

Carth clearly did not believe him, but he was tactful enough not to pursue the point any further. "Whatever. It's none of my business, I guess..." Shrugging, he walked off down the corridor, leaving the red-faced Jedi to return to his room and try to work off his embarrassment.

It was mid-morning by the time Revan arrived in the small kitchen that had been reserved for the use of the _Hawk_'s crew. Most of his friends were already gathered there, eating breakfast or standing around and sipping coffee. They greeted him warmly as he entered: "Hey there, Revan. Had a good night?"

"Um... okay, I guess. I didn't sleep too well." He turned away and began to serve himself some food, hoping to avoid further questions. Carth looked as if he was trying not to smile, but said nothing.

There was a minute or so of silence, punctuated only by the clatter of knives and forks. Finally Mission, who had been fidgeting nervously for a while, plucked up courage and spoke. "Er... Rev? Do you know if Bastila's OK?"

Revan took a sip of his drink, then put down his cup and looked across the table at the young Twi'lek. "Yes, I think so," he replied, trying to sound casual. "Why?"

"Well, it's just that I haven't seen her for ages." Her small, earnest face was filled with concern. "And her room is next to mine, and, well... I was half asleep, but I'd swear that last night I heard her cry out. You know, like she was in pain or something?"

"She probably had a bad dream. I – I'm sure she's fine." Carth gave a cough which sounded suspiciously like laughter, but Mission nodded, apparently satisfied with this explanation. Just as they were about to resume eating, however, the door opened and Bastila herself entered the room.

"Good morning." She looked pale and tired, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Most of the others murmured greetings before tactfully returning to what they were doing, but Canderous was not about to let her off so easily. Bastila had never made any secret of her dislike for him, and now that she had so thoroughly disgraced herself, he took a vengeful delight in taunting her.

"Well, I see that the Jedi Princess has finally decided to honour us with her presence." He leaned against the wall, smiling at her with the faint, mocking insolence he always adopted when speaking to the young Jedi. "You've been hiding yourself away long enough. Guilty conscience, maybe?"

Bastila ignored him and busied herself with the food dispenser, but Revan could sense how each word stung her. He groaned inwardly; the events of the previous night had left him in a foul mood, and Canderous's behaviour was not helping to improve it. _Shut up, Canderous_, he willed silently, trying to convey the message through the Force - but the Mandalorian remained typically impervious to any kind of indirect persuasion.

"It didn't take you long to abandon all your precious Jedi principles, did it?" he jeered. "Malak was a fool. If I were him I'd have thought twice about trusting a little turncoat like you."

This was more than Bastila could stand. Blanching with anger, she turned glacier-blue eyes on her tormenter. "I hardly think I need a lesson in loyalty from you, Mandalorian." Her voice was like the blade of a scythe. "Perhaps you've forgotten that we're only here because you betrayed your previous employer? You may fawn over Revan now and tell him what a great warrior he is, but if Malak had defeated him you'd be his lap-dog instead."

A grin spread over Canderous's face. "So now I'm a 'lap-dog', am I?" he drawled. "Well, I'll tell you something: I'd rather be Revan's lap-dog than Malak's whore."

Bastila shook visibly, almost dropping the cup she was holding. Revan heard her gasp in pain as the hot liquid slopped over her hand, and it was the final straw. He stood up, slamming his empty mug down on the table with a force that made the others look up in astonishment, and walked slowly and deliberately over to Canderous. Before the surprised Mandalorian had time to work out what was happening, Revan punched him so hard in the face that his head smacked into the wall behind him.

"Don't. _Ever_. Say that about Bastila again," he snarled through clenched teeth. Without a word, the young woman flung down her cup and rushed out of the room. After a moment Revan turned on his heel and strode after her, leaving a circle of shocked faces behind him – excitement on Mission's, concern on Jolee's and Juhani's, and barely-concealed delight on Carth's. Even T3-M4 let out a few surprised beeps.

Canderous, for his part, was momentarily stunned, but it didn't take him long to return to his senses. Swearing viciously in his own language, he grabbed his blaster and lurched towards the door – only to find his way blocked by a huge, furry body. "Out of my way, dustball," he growled at Zaalbar. "When I get my hands on –"

"I wouldn't, you know." Jolee's voice was quiet, yet forceful. "Remember who you're talking about. If you go after Revan now you'll probably end up with a lot more than a black eye."

Angry as he was, Canderous still retained enough sense to recognise the truth of Jolee's words. He scowled and sank down into a chair, rubbing his jaw. "What the hell is wrong with the guy?" he demanded furiously.

Carth tapped him on the shoulder and said something in a low voice. His mouth fell open in astonishment. "What, Revan and the Ice Queen there? You're kidding." Carth shook his head, and the Mandalorian threw up his hands in exasperation. "Well, maybe if someone had _told_ me..."

Revan, meanwhile, had finally found Bastila in a nearby washroom, running her hand under the cold water. Without even looking at him she said quietly, "Please don't do that again, Revan. I can fight my own battles."

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just... I guess I'm still feeling guilty about not being able to protect you, that's all."

She turned to him, a hint of a smile on her face. "Well, I appreciate your... chivalry, but I think you may be over-compensating a little."

He laughed ruefully, and the tension between them relaxed a little. "Oh, dear," he breathed. "Canderous isn't going to forgive me in a hurry, is he?"

She looked up at him in amusement. "Do you think he'll insist on fighting a duel with you?"

"Not if he has any sense." He took her hands in his, and his face grew more serious. "Um, Bastila, about what happened last night..."

"Ah." She cringed, remembering how she had cried out and struck at him, and the look on his face as he lay there on the floor. "Yes, I... I owe you an apology for my behaviour, Revan. It was... foolish of me."

"Don't apologise, Bastila," he said gently. "It was my fault as much as yours. I should never have pushed you into anything like that so soon after what happened to you."

"But you couldn't have known..."

He shook his head. "No, but I knew you'd been hurt. And I could tell you were afraid of something... I should have been more careful."

"I ought to have told you," she muttered. In reply he only squeezed her hands; then he let go of them and slipped his arms around her waist, gazing tenderly into her face.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to someone else about this?" he murmured. "Maybe Juhani –"

She flinched. "No. Please, I don't feel ready to tell anyone else yet." She hesitated for a moment. "If I'm going to talk to anyone about it, I'd prefer it to be you."

"Whenever you want, Bastila."

Slowly she nodded her head. "All right. Meet me in the recreation room tonight while the others are having dinner."

"And you'll tell me what happened?"

"Yes. Everything."

To their mutual relief, Revan and Canderous contrived to avoid each other for the rest of the day. However, Revan still had to put up with the others' amused remarks whenever he ran into any of them. Carth's was typically concise: "Nice one, Rev!"

Jolee was more circumspect. "You want to watch out for that Dark Side, young man."

"I know," he said sheepishly. "But honestly, Canderous couldn't have picked a worse thing to say under the circumstances." Suddenly he longed to share the burden with someone. "Jolee, Malak's men raped her."

The old man's eyes widened in shock. "Raped?" His face filled with pity as Revan slowly nodded his head. "Damn it," he muttered. "Poor kid. No wonder..."

"I love her so much, Jolee..." The old Jedi heard the undertones in the younger man's voice, and sighed.

"Just you stick with her, kid," he warned. "She's going to need you."

--------

_The ordeal seemed to go on for hours. It wasn't the pain that she couldn't stand – while hideous, it was nothing compared to some of the tortures she had already suffered. No, what was truly unbearable was the utter humiliation, the indignity of having her body violated in this way. The knowledge that to these men she was nothing more than a slave, a toy..._

_Malak watched impassively throughout the entire proceedings, deaf to her screams and her pleas for mercy, a cold smile on his face. When it was finally over and she lay there half-naked and bleeding, sobbing with rage and despair, he crossed the room and knelt down beside her. For one terrible moment she thought her torment was going to begin again, but instead she felt his fingers loosen the collar around her neck; then he seized her by the hair, pulling her face up to his._

"_Well, child?" he rasped into her ear. "Do you still believe Revan will come for you now?" He drew her face even closer, forcing her to look directly into his pale, bloodshot eyes. "Do you think he'll even want you after this?"_

_She cried out as if she had been struck. Malak released her, letting her head fall back to the ground, and stood up. "We shall see," he said softly. "I have plenty more men, Bastila." _

_At this moment, something inside her finally snapped. She howled with fury, hurling a blast of Force lightning at him that should have fried him to a crisp, yet he only laughed... Still she blasted him again and again, screaming curses at him, all the anger and hatred she had suppressed for so long overflowing into a torrent of frenzied rage. Cascades of wild, untamed Force energy gushed through her, draining her last reserves of strength, yet fuelling her passion and loathing ever further. Until finally she collapsed from sheer exhaustion, the sound of his laughter still ringing in her ears... _

Bastila described everything in as few words as possible, her voice brittle and emotionless. Revan remained silent throughout, cradling her protectively in his arms as she tried to put into words a pain beyond anything he could imagine. As she went on she felt his pulse quicken and his muscles grow taut, anger and frustration seething inside him until he could barely contain it any longer.

"The bastard..." He was almost trembling with anger, squeezing her so tightly that she could hardly breathe. "Gods, if I had Malak here now –"

"Shhh," she whispered. "Calm yourself. Use the Force."

He nodded, breathing in deeply, and his hold on her gradually relaxed. "But – you became his apprentice?"

"I hated him," she said simply. "I hated him. But I couldn't stand it any longer, Revan. You have no idea how... how _worthless_ it made me feel to be treated like that. I felt so pathetic..."

"Pathetic?" He gazed down at her, shaking his head. "You survived a week of Sith torture and you call yourself pathetic?"

"But it didn't make any difference. All this power I'm supposed to have and I still couldn't stop them doing those things to me." A shudder ran through her. "And he kept telling me that you'd abandoned me. He said that you'd just been using me, like the Jedi and the Republic, and now you didn't need me any more you'd never come back."

A look of agony crossed his face. "Oh, Bastila, I swear I came as fast as I could. I never stopped thinking about you..."

She nodded. "I know that now. But they kept torturing me all the time, they never let me sleep... I thought I'd been there for weeks." Her voice quivered with agitation. "And then... you know what they did. I just couldn't believe that you'd allow that to happen if you felt anything at all for me..."

He let out an anguished groan, burying his face into her shoulder. "Forgive me," he mumbled, his eyes damp with tears. "Forgive me."

"I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness," she retorted. "I should never have allowed myself to believe his lies. It wasn't just me he wanted to hurt, Revan, it was you as well..."

Revan said nothing; he knew that she was right. Malak had waited years to take revenge on his former master, and then out of the blue had come an opportunity he could only have dreamed of: the chance to steal away what Revan loved above all else, whilst finally and irrevocably securing his own power. The fact that it meant destroying an innocent woman's life was nothing to him...

"Malak was a monster," she said bitterly. "A heartless, sadistic monster. I can't believe you could ever have been as bad as he was."

Revan shook his head sadly, thinking back to his dream. "Don't kid yourself, Bastila. I was, I'm afraid."

"But you came back..."

"Only because of you."

Neither of them spoke again for several minutes. Finally Revan raised his head and drew a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. "Bastila, what's going to happen about... us?"

She sighed. "Look, it's not that I don't want to... to make love to you. But I just don't think I'm ready yet, not after what happened..."

"Then we'll wait," he said quietly. "I don't want to force you into anything you're not ready for."

Though he spoke calmly, Bastila could sense how much effort it cost him to suppress his desire for her, and she felt a sudden rush of tenderness and affection for him. "Oh, Revan." Her eyes were filled with love and regret. "I wish it could have been with you the first time..."

"It will be." She looked up at him in surprise. "What those Sith scum did to you wasn't sex, it was torture. It'll be different for us, I promise."

She nodded silently and laid her cheek against his, enjoying the feeling of his strong, comforting arms around her. Revan slowly began to twist a strand of her hair around his finger, his mouth curving into a faint smile. "Your mother is going to kill me," he muttered.

She laughed. "Not when I tell her what you did for me. She'll learn to love you as well, eventually." Despite herself, she couldn't help feeling a certain amusement as she pictured the conversation: _"Mother, this is my boyfriend Revan. He's sweet and kind and – yes, I know he used to be the Dark Lord of the Sith, but that's all behind him now..."_

Suddenly a thought struck her. "Revan, what about the Council?"

"Well, what about them?" he murmured, still playing with her hair.

"They might – say that we can't be together." Her voice sank to a whisper. "They might want to put me on trial..."

"No." He spoke with firm assurance. "They won't do that, Bastila. No one could blame you for going to the Dark Side after they hear what happened to you."

"But if they try to separate us?" There was a note of pleading in her voice.

Revan looked straight into her eyes. "Listen, my love," he said steadily. "Whatever happens, I promise I won't let anyone take you away from me again. I need you, Bastila."

She breathed out shakily and closed her eyes, relief flooding over her. Revan bent his head until their faces were almost touching. "I love you," he murmured.

She smiled up at him. "I know..." Gently, his lips met hers.

A little later, Jolee Bindo was walking back towards his room when he came across Juhani a short way down the corridor. She was standing in front of an open door, gazing intently at something within the room. As he approached she turned and put a finger to her lips, beckoning him to come closer.

"Come. Let me show you something." He walked over and peered into the room, curious to see what she found so fascinating, and what he saw there brought a lump to his throat.

Bastila and Revan were sitting together on one of the sofas in the recreation room, wrapped in each other's arms. They were far too absorbed in each other to notice that they were being observed. What struck Jolee the most was not their embrace, however, but the strange ripples they produced in the Force as it flowed over them. When the Jedi were apart it swirled tempestuously around them, whirling and churning like a hurricane; but as they sat there together it seemed to subside into a calm, tranquil breeze, drifting protectively around the young couple.

"Can you feel it?" whispered Juhani. He nodded, his eyes still fixed on the two beings who sat entwined in such perfect harmony, oblivious to everything around them.

"Well," he muttered finally. "If the Council can't see that those two belong together, they're bigger fools than I ever imagined." Noiselessly he slid the door to. "Come on, let's leave 'em in peace."

Together they crept off down the corridor, leaving the two young lovers alone with each other.


	3. Part 3

A/N: After agonising over this for months, I've finally decided to continue with this fic and explore some of the issues I had previously left out. Think of the next few chapters as being 'Part 2' of the story (yes, I know the last chapter was labelled 'Part 2'. Confusing, isn't it?) It will continue the story up to the medal ceremony which ends the game.

**

* * *

Part 3**

_The first thing Bastila felt when she woke was pain – a savage, crushing pain that seemed to radiate through her whole body. She could smell blood, and for a moment she wondered if she was dying – and then, as the memory struck her like a blaster bolt to the stomach, she found herself wishing that this were indeed the case._

_She forced herself to open her eyes, and immediately wished she hadn't. Shuddering violently, she manoeuvred herself into a sitting position and covered herself as best she could with her tattered tunic; then, wincing with pain at every movement, she inched her way over into the corner of the room and sank back against the wall. Something between a groan and a sob escaped her as she lowered her head onto her knees, curling herself up into a tight, rigid ball._

_The fury she had felt last night still simmered inside her, the pressure gradually increasing until she was seething with rage and hatred. The Jedi... She ground her teeth at the thought of them, with their sanctimonious preaching and their smug hypocrisy. Everything Malak had told her about them was true; they'd used her and manipulated her for their own ends, and now that she was no longer needed they'd left her to rot. Even Revan, her so-called friend, who'd pretended to love her..._

_Shards of agony pierced her heart as she recalled that night on Kashyyyk, and hot tears filled her eyes. Revan, Malak, the Council... all of them would suffer for what they had done to her. She would become the Dark Lord's 'loyal' apprentice, drawing her power from the Dark Side until she was strong enough to defeat Revan... and then, one day, she would overpower her Master and put him to a slow, agonizing death, making him beg and scream for mercy the way she had once begged him. Everyone would see the horrendous price he paid for treating her in that way._

_A ripple in the Force warned her of Malak's approach, but she made no attempt to move. His heavy footsteps drew closer and closer; finally she heard the door slide aside, and the Dark Lord entered the cell. He walked straight over to Bastila and bent over her, touching her cheek with a surprising gentleness. She flinched automatically at his touch, but Malak did not appear to notice or care._

"_Well, Bastila?" he said quietly. "Have you made your choice?"_

_He could already sense what her answer would be. Slowly she raised her head to look at him, her eyes burning in her pale face, and nodded._

_Malak's face remained solemn, but she saw the spark of triumph in his eyes. "Good." His deep voice rang with satisfaction. "I will teach you to put that anger and pain to good use, Bastila."_

_A shiver ran through her. "Those men – " Her voice was no more than a croak, but Malak knew immediately what she meant._

"_They will die."_

_She nodded again and sank her face into her arms once more. Malak turned away from her and beckoned to two Dark Jedi, both female, who stood just outside the room. "Take her to the medical bay," he ordered._

_Wordlessly they complied, helping Bastila to her feet and half-leading, half-carrying her out of the cell. She felt an instinctive shudder of revulsion at being touched, and then cursed herself angrily for her weakness. She would never think of... that... again; she would block it out of her mind completely, forcing herself to concentrate on the future. The only thing that mattered, the only thing left to her now, was revenge..._

The vision suddenly vanished, leaving her in darkness. Powerful arms held her tightly against a warm, hard body – a man's body – and for a moment her blood froze in her veins. She let out an involuntary whimper of fear, even as she realised where she was and who it was that was holding her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and lay very still in his arms, her heart still beating almost painfully hard. Even though she could feel him both physically and through the Force, she was half-convinced that this itself was a dream, and she would soon wake up to find herself back in the Temple. Revan must have felt her shivering, as he stirred in his sleep and mumbled something before finally waking up.

"Bastila?" The sound of his sleepy voice was inexpressibly comforting. Now she remembered how he had offered to stay with her again that night, and was suddenly relieved that she had accepted. She forced the horrible images out of her mind and opened her eyes to look at the man she loved, the tension gradually beginning to seep from her body.

Revan was gazing into her face, a touch of concern in his dark eyes. "Bad dreams?" he murmured, trailing his hand along her cheek.

She nodded, unwilling to go into details, and he heaved a sigh. "Sweetheart, you're going to have to tell someone about this eventually."

"I _know._" The words came out rather more forcefully than she had intended. Lowering her voice a little, she continued: "My Master, Hestra, is a member of the High Council. I'll speak to her about it when we arrive on Coruscant."

"All right." He leaned over and softly touched his lips to hers, not wanting to upset her any further. "We should be there in a few more hours, anyway."

"Yes..." Bastila felt her stomach begin to tighten up again. She was definitely not looking forward to their arrival in the Republic's capital, let alone the inevitable meeting with the Jedi Council. Who knew what would be in store for the two of them?

Revan sensed her apprehension and pressed her closer to him, rolling over slightly so that her head rested on his chest. "I've told you it's going to be OK," he muttered soothingly, stroking her cheek with the tips of his fingers.

She gave him a rather sad smile. "I wish I could be as sure as you, Revan."

"I'll be fine, whatever happens," he reassured her, and suddenly she felt him tense up sharply. "And if anyone lays a finger on you, I'll kill them."

His sudden anger surged through their bond, making her look up at him in alarm. Sensing how it disturbed her, Revan forced himself to calm down once more. "Anyway," he said in a lighter tone, "I'd better be getting back to my own room. HK will be getting worried about me."

She rolled her eyes in mock-disgust. "That droid! Anyone would think you were married to the thing."

Revan only smiled, then reluctantly slid her off him and dragged himself out of the bed. "I'll see you at breakfast," he said as he pulled on his robe. She responded with another slightly strained smile before settling back down under the covers, wondering why the bed somehow felt so much colder without him.

-----

Revan's mind remained preoccupied with Bastila as he returned to his room, this time without any embarrassing encounters, and quickly dressed himself. Even though she seemed to have improved a little over the past few days, it was obvious that she was still in a bad state. He didn't know how long it would take her to recover from everything she had been through; even for a woman with Bastila's strength of mind, he suspected that it would take a long time.

He prayed that the council wouldn't attempt to separate them. She badly needed someone to care for her, and as for him... He tried to imagine a future without her, and quickly abandoned the attempt. Somehow the idea made him feel very lonely indeed.

It was earlier than he had realised, and his heart sank when he reached the kitchen and perceived that the only other person there was Canderous Ordo. The Mandalorian was bent over one of the tables, busily polishing off the remains of a hearty breakfast, and barely even looked up as his crewmate entered. Revan hesitated; he had no desire whatsoever to apologise for the previous day's events, particularly as he was sure Canderous had no intention of doing so himself, but he knew that it was his obligation as a Jedi. Pride and duty fought a brief but heated tussle for control, and duty finally won out.

"Canderous?"

The other man looked up from his meal. "Hm?" he mumbled, his mouth still full of food.

"About yesterday..." Revan gritted his teeth. "I guess I should apologise. I... rather lost control when you said that about Bastila."

Rather to his surprise, Canderous simply shrugged. "Hey, she's your girl. I can respect that." He screwed up his face, unable to hide his true feelings. "I don't know what the hell you see in her, but..."

Revan rolled his eyes inwardly and fought back a smile. As he had come to observe, Mandalorians were nothing if not brutally honest. "Not your type, I take it?" he ventured.

The expression on Canderous's face spoke far louder than words. "Well, it's your funeral," he said darkly, before returning to the original subject. "Anyway, if I'd realised you two were sleeping together – "

"We're not sleeping together, Canderous."

"Huh?" Now Canderous looked really confused.

"Never mind... I'll explain some other time." Revan turned away and began to serve himself some food. He couldn't help feeling some relief that the Mandalorian, whom he had come to see as a friend of sorts, didn't seem to bear a grudge against him. "What will you do when all this is over?" he asked, by way of making conversation.

Canderous did not reply for a minute, and when his answer finally came, it was unexpectedly hesitant. "I... I don't know. After what happened with Jagi..." He looked down at his plate, shaking his head. "I've been thinking for a while, and I'm not happy with how my life has gone. I don't think I'm the Mandalore I once was."

Surprised, Revan looked round at him. "How do you mean?"

The older man shrugged. "Comrades in arms... cheating death... the thrill of battle..." He shook his head again. "It gets old. Very old."

"Really?" Revan stared at him in astonishment. Was this the same man who'd spent the last few months boasting endlessly about his glorious victories in battle?

"Yeah." Canderous nodded slowly. "I think I need something more than just fighting and killing... you know, some kind of purpose." Before Revan could ask what this might be, he went on: "Maybe it could be with the Republic... or even the Sith. Who knows?"

The Jedi suppressed a sigh. He couldn't help feeling that Canderous was missing the point about fighting for a 'purpose', but how to explain this to a Mandalorian? It had long since become clear to him that as far as their mentality and beliefs were concerned, they might as well be living in different universes. "I hope you find what you're looking for," he said honestly, but somehow he suspected that this period of unusual introspection on Canderous's part would not last long. Sooner or later, his warrior nature was bound to reassert itself.

"I'll find my way again soon enough." Canderous munched down the last few morsels of food, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "And now let's forget about this before I start getting sentimental or something." Once again Revan found himself hiding a smile; clearly some things never changed.

The others were starting to arrive now, and Revan was pleased to see Bastila among them. She said very little, however, and did not even deign to look at Canderous, who returned the favour by ignoring her completely. Revan observed their shaky truce with an inward sigh; for all they had briefly managed to stop sniping at each other, he got the feeling that there would never be any love lost between those two.

As the others jostled over the food dispensers, he walked over to the window and stared out into space. It couldn't be long now; all too soon they would be coming out of hyperspace and making their entry into the Coruscant system. As to what awaited them there, he wished he knew.

-----

The news of the Star Forge's destruction had, unsurprisingly, come as a massive relief to the Republic's beleaguered political and military leaders. However, the mood of celebration was immediately tempered by the question of how to deal with Revan, and there had already been several heated debates in the Senate while the fleet was returning to Coruscant. Many of the Core Worlds representatives were supportive of the errant Jedi, while those Outer Rim worlds which had suffered most from the war had no hesitation in calling for his imprisonment or even execution; others, however, remained fiercely loyal to the man who had saved them from the Mandalorians.

Revan himself knew nothing of these debates, or of their eventual outcome. As he stood with the others in one of the docking bays, ready to board the transport which would take them to the surface of Coruscant, he could feel the heightened tension even at this distance. He was reasonably certain that he wouldn't be arrested on his arrival, as Republic troops could have done that at any point during the last few days; but how would he be received by the people of the Republic? Would he be viewed as saviour or conqueror, hero or villain?

He stole a glance at Bastila, who stood by his side. She looked pale and distinctly anxious, even though in his opinion she had far less to be afraid of than he did. He grasped her hand in his, as much for his own comfort as for hers, and she flashed him a brief, grateful smile.

As the transport made its way towards the surface he sat with his eyes glued to the small porthole, keen to see the Republic's capital for himself. At long last the buildings began to come into focus, and he recognised the five massive spires of the Jedi Temple, towering above the rest of the city. It was an awe-inspiring sight, and for a moment it almost made him forget how nervous he was.

"What's that on the ground?" he heard Mission say somewhere behind him. He turned his attention to the streets below, and was astonished to see what looked like a heaving sea of tiny, brightly-coloured dots, stretching out around the Temple for at least a mile. "They're people," he said softly, as the ship slowed down to begin its descent into the Temple grounds. "Waiting for us, I think."

"Our welcome party, huh?" muttered Carth. A dull roar filtered through to them from below as the transport drew closer to the ground. "Sounds like they're cheering."

Revan's eyes briefly met Bastila's. "Well, that's a good sign... I guess," he said, with an uncertain smile.

The cheers had died down a little by the time the ship disappeared behind the walls of the Temple, but they were still astonishingly loud. As the party members finally stepped out of the transport into the open air, the noise was almost deafening. A couple of young Knights hurried up to lead them into the temple, where a Rodian Jedi Master was waiting for them.

"Greetings, and welcome to the Jedi Temple. My name is Kodon Tol." He turned to Bastila. "Padawan Bastila, your Master wishes to speak to you in private. I believe she will be here soon."

Bastila nodded meekly, and Kodon turned his attention back to the others. "As for the rest of you, would you please follow me?"

-----

Revan hurried after Kodon through the endless corridors of the Temple, wishing he had the time to explore some of the places he had seen along the way. He wasn't even sure where he was going; all he had been told was that Vandar wanted to speak to him alone. The others, apart from the droids, had been taken to a waiting area nearby; apparently they would be shown to their own quarters later on.

He was ushered into a small study, furnished in the same simple but comfortable style as the other rooms he had seen. Behind a low desk, on a specially-constructed chair, sat Vandar Tokare; beside him was a middle-aged woman in military dress, whom he recognised as Admiral Dodonna. It was the first time he had seen her in the flesh – at least, the first time he could actually remember – and he briefly wondered how she felt about meeting him again. Her face gave little away; she looked neither particularly hostile nor particularly friendly.

"Welcome back to Coruscant, Padawan. This is Admiral Forn Dodonna." Vandar paused briefly to allow the two to shake hands. "Am I right in thinking that you wish to be known as 'Revan' again from now on?"

Revan hesitated. He knew the risk he was taking by re-adopting his old name and identity; there must be thousands of people, if not millions, on both sides of the current conflict who would like nothing better than to see him dead. But he couldn't keep up the lie any longer, to himself or anyone else; he couldn't bring himself to hide behind an identity that only existed in the minds of the Jedi Council. He deserved to be judged, whether favourably or unfavourably, on everything he had done.

"Yes, Master Vandar," he replied after a few moments. "I do."

"So be it." Vandar leaned back in his chair. "I imagine you have many questions for us, Revan."

That was the understatement of the century, Revan thought. Before he could actually ask any questions, Vandar went on: "Zhar will be pleased to see you, I'm sure. He's been extremely worried about you."

"Master Zhar is alive?" Revan was surprised; he had assumed that Vandar was the only Council member who had escaped Dantooine.

"Yes. He and Vrook were injured, but they survived the attack." Vandar's face grew solemn. "However, Vrook is still somewhat...troubled. He was quite strongly affected by Malak's death, even though he had expected it."

"Malak was Vrook's former apprentice," explained the Admiral, seeing the young man's confused expression. Revan felt his heart sink as he suddenly understood. No wonder Vrook had always seemed to dislike him so much; he must have blamed him for leading his own pupil astray – and Malak's death was hardly likely to improve things between them.

He dismissed the thought from his mind; there were more urgent matters to consider. "Admiral, may I ask you something? What's going to happen to me and Bastila?"

Dodonna sighed. "A good question. Some people would prefer to see you brought to trial." She gave no indication of whether or not she shared this view. "But since you have no memory of the crimes you committed, I doubt that would be possible. In any case, I believe the Chancellor is planning to grant you an official pardon."

"And Bastila?" he demanded. Vandar and the Admiral exchanged glances.

"Her case is rather different," said the Jedi Master softly. "Some people have also called for her to be brought to trial. But I think it would be best to wait until we know more about the reasons behind what she did."

Revan had a sudden vision of Bastila standing alone in front of a military court, forced once again to recite every gruesome detail of her sufferings on the Rakata world, harassed by lawyers who didn't know or care whether she was telling the truth. The thought made him feel sick. "Master," he said urgently, "I think there's something you should – "

His words were drowned out by a loud knock on the door. Before Vandar or the Admiral could respond, it slid open and a grim-faced woman marched into the room, her mouth set in a hard line. Without apologising for the interruption, she walked straight up to Vandar's desk and spoke: "Vandar, Admiral, I need to speak to you immediately."

Surprised at her abrupt manner, Vandar made a slight gesture towards Revan. "Could it not wait, Hestra?"

"I think not." She sounded quite adamant.

Vandar's brow furrowed in concern. "Very well," he said, and nodded to the young Jedi. "Would you excuse us for a minute, Padawan?"

"Of course, Master." Revan pushed back his chair and stood up, then hesitated. "Er... Master Hestra, where is Bastila?"

"I've sent her for a medical examination." Without elaborating, she waved a hand towards the corridor behind her. "Your other friends are still in the waiting area."

Revan bowed formally and walked out of the room. Almost instantly he heard the door close behind him, and then the sound of raised voices; though he couldn't make out what they were talking about, he had a pretty good idea. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued down the corridor to the waiting area

His friends were still where he had left them, lolling about on the chairs in attitudes of obvious boredom and irritation. Mission was the first to see him approach, and she immediately perked up. "Hey, Revan, what's up?"

"Bastila's Master is talking to Vandar." He looked around from one to the other, and noticed that Juhani was missing. "What's going on here?"

Carth jerked his thumb towards the door on the opposite wall. "They're interviewing us one at a time. Asking questions about the mission and... well, you and Bastila."

Mission leaned forward conspiratorially. "Don't worry, Rev," she said in a low voice. "We won't tell them anything about... y'know, you two."

Revan had a feeling that some of the Masters already knew, or at least suspected, but he let it pass. Before he could reply, however, the door opened slightly and a man's head peered out. "Jolee Bindo, please."

"My turn for the third degree, is it?" muttered the old man. Winking at Revan, he stood up and turned to walk into the interview room just as Juhani was coming out. The Cathar's eyes were unusually shiny, and the soft fur on her cheeks looked slightly damp. Revan instantly realised that she had been crying, and was momentarily horrified – what kind of questions could the Jedi be asking his friends that would leave them in tears?

"Juhani, what's wrong?" he asked in astonishment. The young woman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and made a determined effort to smile.

"Forgive me, Padawan," she said shakily. "It is just..." Her voice faltered. "Do you remember a woman named Belaya Thaar, whom you met on Dantooine?

"Belaya..." The name did sound familiar. Suddenly Revan remembered: she was the woman who had mistaken him for a Padawan when he first arrived, and had later thanked him for saving Juhani from the Dark Side.

Juhani saw his uncertain nod and continued. "She was... a close friend of mine. Very close." Her voice sank almost to a whisper. "I have just discovered that she was killed when the Sith attacked the Academy."

There was a long silence. Most of the others looked down uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Juhani," said Revan finally. "What about your Master, did she survive?"

The grief faded slightly from Juhani's eyes. "Yes, Force be praised. She had left the planet for medical treatment, and escaped the attack. I suppose that for this at least, I should be grateful." No one chose to mention the obvious irony: that ultimately, Juhani's near-fatal attack on Quatra had almost certainly saved her life.

Carth shifted a little in his chair. "Where did Bastila get to, anyway?" he asked, in a rather transparent attempt to change the subject.

"Her Master sent her for a medical examination."

Mission's eyes widened. "Why? Is there something wrong with her?"

Revan felt a sudden rush of anger and impatience. "What, apart from having been through a week of almost constant torture?" he snapped. The young Twi'lek raised her eyebrows in surprise and mortification, and he immediately felt guilty for losing his temper with her. "Yes," he went on with forced calmness, "there is something else wrong with her."

All of them were staring at him now, waiting for him to elaborate. For a moment he wondered if he should tell them now, or leave it up to Bastila... but it was bound to come out pretty soon, in any case. And this way, at least there'd be no risk of them accidentally causing her further pain through thoughtless remarks.

He took a deep breath. "She was raped," he said quietly. "By two of Malak's Dark Jedi. That's why she fell to the Dark Side."

There were gasps of dismay from the assembled crewmates. Their expressions ran the gamut from shocked disbelief to horror and disgust; only Canderous, who rarely allowed himself to show much emotion, remained impassive. Juhani was the first to speak, her own grief forgotten.

"The worms." Her voice trembled with rage. "But it does not surprise me. They are capable of anything, these Sith animals, anything."

"Where are the men who did this?" growled Zaalbar, baring his teeth in a menacing snarl.

"Almost certainly dead, I'm glad to say." Revan found himself hoping with a most un-Jedi-like venom that their deaths had been slow and painful.

No one said anything more for a long time. "Is there anything we can do for her?" Carth asked at last, his voice subdued.

Revan shrugged wearily. "I don't think so. Just don't mention this to her when she comes back. And just... try to speak to her with a little _tact_, OK?" He looked very pointedly at Canderous, whose face remained expressionless.

At that moment Hestra appeared once more, looking slightly calmer than she had done earlier. "Vandar wishes to speak to you again, Padawan," she said quietly to Revan. He nodded and stood up to go, leaving the others talking amongst themselves in hushed voices.

Vandar and the others looked up as he re-entered the study. "Ah, Revan," he said mildly. "Please forgive the interruption. We were speaking of Bastila, were we not?"

"Yes, Master."

Vandar glanced over at the Admiral, who nodded and took over from him. "After what Hestra told us about her fall to the Dark Side, I don't believe a formal trial would be appropriate," she said softly. "I have decided it would be better to leave this matter up to the Jedi."

She fell silent, and Vandar continued. "The Council will convene for a special session tomorrow morning. You and Bastila will attend and give an account of your actions." He paused. "Is this acceptable to you, Padawan?"

He wasn't exactly looking forward to it, but what could he say? It was a lot better than a trial. "Of course, Master," he replied, then turned to Admiral Dodonna. "And... thank you, Admiral."

She inclined her head slightly in reply. Vandar pressed a button on his desk, and the door slid open again. "That will be all for now, young one," he said. "If you have any more questions, speak to one of the other Masters."

There were in fact many more questions that Revan would have liked to ask, but it was clear that he wouldn't be getting any answers for the moment. Stifling a sigh, he bowed once more and left the room; then, his mind still fixed on the upcoming Council meeting, he slowly made his way back to join his friends. Everything else would have to wait.


	4. Part 4

A/N: Yes, there will be an Epilogue as usual. I'll try and post it within a few days, but it may take longer as I'm revising for exams at the moment.**

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**Part 4**

When Revan woke the next morning to see daylight streaming in through the windows, it took him a few moments to work out where he was. He had spent so much time on starships over the past few months that it seemed almost strange to be sleeping on firm ground again, lacking the faint, ever-present sensation of movement and the distant hum of the engines in his ears.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and looked around the small room which the Jedi had assigned to him the previous evening. It was much like the rooms at the Academy on Dantooine: comfortable enough, if not exactly luxurious. The bare walls and simple furnishings lent it the slightly clinical air of a hospital room; if he was to be his home base, he decided, he would have to see about brightening it up a bit.

He swung himself off the bed and walked over to open the door, wondering if any of his friends were around. But the only person in the corridor outside was HK-47, who stood with his back to the door in a defensive posture. "Hello, HK," he said in surprise. "I thought the Jedi took you to have your memory analysed?"

"Response: Indeed they did, Master," replied the droid, with a hint of reproach. "But I persuaded them that I should be returned to you as soon as possible. I am your property, after all."

Revan wondered exactly how he had persuaded them of this. "You didn't kill anyone, did you?" he asked, only half-jokingly. You could never be quite sure with HK.

"Reassurance: Indeed not, master. Much as I would have liked to, I am bound by your orders." There was an ill-disguised tone of dissatisfaction in the droid's voice. "Question: May I enquire as to your programme of activities for the day?"

Revan looked at him in amusement. "Are you my secretary now, HK?"

"Response: It was only a simple question, master. I merely wished to know if there is likely to be any gruesome violence involved."

The Jedi cupped his chin in his hand and thought. "Hmm, let's see... Morning, meeting with the Jedi Council to find out whether they're going to kick me out of the Order. Afternoon... well, I'm not sure yet, but probably no violence. But if anything comes up," he added quickly, "you'll be the first to know."

"Resignation: Very well, master." HK's tone expressed mild disappointment, but no surprise. "In that case I will enter sleep mode until you have further need of me."

Having stashed HK safely in a corner, Revan dressed himself quickly and sat down on the bed to await his summons to the Council. As he expected, it was not long before he heard a sharp rap on the door. On opening it he was surprised to see a very familiar face: an attractive Twi'lek woman in her late thirties, her lilac skin covered with the distinctive tattoos favoured by the Sith. "Yuthura?" he asked, momentarily disorientated.

"Jacob." She corrected herself hastily. "Revan, I mean. I've been sent to bring you to the Council chamber."

He noticed that she now wore Jedi robes. "Are you studying here now?" he asked.

"Yes, I've taken up my studies again under my old Master. He cried when he saw me." A shadow of discomfort passed across her face. "It hasn't been easy to adjust, but I am glad I chose this path. I feel far more at peace here than I ever did with the Sith."

"I'm glad to hear it." Revan couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable in her presence. Of the many things he regretted about his recent behaviour, flirting with Yuthura Ban on Korriban came pretty near the top of the list. True, he had only done it in order to gain her confidence, but he couldn't help feeling somewhat guilty – especially now that he knew what Bastila had been going through at the time.

They said little to each other as Yuthura led him through the Temple. Finally, as they stepped out of the elevator outside the Council chamber, she turned to him and gave him a quick smile. "They're waiting for you inside," she said in a low voice. "I have to go now, anyway. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

The doors closed behind him before he had the chance to respond. Shrugging, he turned away and walked down the hall to the entrance of the chamber; no one was there to greet him. He wondered for a moment if he should knock, decided against it, and instead pressed the door release panel to let himself into the room.

The Council chamber was smaller and lighter than he expected. Twelve Jedi of various species sat on a circle of chairs around the edge of the room; amongst them he recognised Vrook, Vandar, Zhar and Bastila's master Hestra, though Bastila herself was nowhere to be seen. He hesitated for a second, then walked into the centre of the room and bowed to Vandar, hoping that this was the correct procedure.

"Good morning, Padawan," said the Council chairman briskly. "Let me introduce my fellow members of the High Council. Some of them are known to you already, of course."

Zhar smiled warmly at his apprentice. "I'm glad to see that you have come to accept who you are, Revan," he remarked. "Many people would not have come to terms with it so easily."

Revan tried not to think of those few awful days after he had first found out the truth. "I know who I am, Master," he said simply. "I saw on Korriban what the Dark Side can do to people. Besides, the life I thought I had... it's not real. Any of it." Try as he might, he couldn't hide the edge of resentment in his voice.

Some of the Council members shifted uncomfortably. "You must realise that our decision was not taken lightly, Revan," Vandar stated quietly. "The war was going badly and we were faced with two equally unpleasant choices. At the time, we thought it the least dangerous course of action." He paused. "And the kindest."

Revan had his own opinions on this, but he also knew that he had no right to complain; given the nature of his crimes, the Council's treatment of him was indeed merciful. He remained silent until Vandar, seeing that he had nothing more to say, took up a datapad from the arm of his chair. "Very well," he said, switching on the pad and glancing over his notes. "Perhaps we should begin?"

As Revan had anticipated, relating the events of their mission took a considerable amount of time. He faced a barrage of questions from all sides: about his interrogation on board the Leviathan, his brief stint at the Sith academy, and his encounters with Malak. Rather to his surprise, however, no one asked him any probing questions about his relationship with Bastila.

Finally Vandar laid his datapad aside and leaned back in his chair. "And now let us discuss your duel with Bastila," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. "Your friends say that after disarming her, you actually handed her your own lightsaber and challenged her to strike you down. Is this true?"

He took a deep breath, and looked steadily into the Jedi Master's eyes. "Yes, Master, it is true," he admitted. "It was the only way I could think of to persuade her that she could turn back."

There were several sharp hisses of breath. One of the Council members murmured something to another behind Revan's back. "You took a great risk, Padawan," Zhar said darkly.

"Not really, Master," he answered calmly. "I knew she wouldn't be able to kill me."

Vandar was looking at him through narrowed eyes. "Were you _absolutely_ certain, Revan?"

The young man hesitated. He wanted to answer a definite 'yes', but he couldn't deny that there had been a tiny flicker of doubt, a fleeting moment... "Let me put it this way," he said finally. "I was certain enough to risk the future of the Galaxy on it." Was that a faint snort he heard from somewhere in Vrook's direction?

Vandar, however, seemed prepared to accept this. "I suppose we must all be thankful that you were right," he remarked; then his expression grew more sombre. "And if you had not been so certain, do you think you could have taken her life?"

"You mean, if I hadn't thought I could save her?" Vandar nodded, and the young Jedi's face darkened. "I hope so," he said grimly. "For her sake. Seeing her turn into something like Malak would be worse than seeing her dead."

There was a long pause as the Council members studied him in silence, trying to judge whether he meant what he said. At long last, Vandar nodded and made another note on his datapad. "Very well... I think that will be all for now, Revan. Bastila will arrive soon for her own interview."

Revan bowed once more and was about to leave, when a sudden instinct made him hesitate. "May I stay to hear her, Master?" he asked.

The Council members exchanged glances. "I see no reason why not," said Vandar finally, "as long as the questions don't pertain to you. But you must not try to influence her answers."

Revan nodded and walked to the side of the room, whereupon Vandar pressed a button and the door slid open once more. Bastila stood on the threshold, looking pale and tense but reasonably composed. "Enter, child," said Hestra softly.

She walked into the centre of the room and bowed, as Revan had done. "I am ready, Master."

"You must realise that this is not a trial, Bastila," explained Vandar. "We simply wish to hear, in your own words, exactly what happened to you while you were held prisoner by the Sith." She nodded, but said nothing. "Could you begin at the point where the others fled the Leviathan and left you with Malak?"

Bastila lowered her eyes to the ground. Haltingly, in the same dull, expressionless tone in which she had described her rape to Revan, she began to recount her experiences during Sith captivity. He had known it would be unpleasant, but nothing could have prepared him for the cold, clinical description of each successive torture, each act of physical and mental cruelty her captors had inflicted on her with pitiless regularity. He could feel the pain deep inside her, the hidden rage; yet she continued to speak in the same quiet monotone, as if it was the only way she could bring herself to speak about the horrors she had suffered.

Only when she reached the part with the Dark Jedi did her voice suddenly begin to tremble. For a moment she had to break off in order to regain control; her hands were shaking, and it was obvious that she was close to tears. Hestra began to rise from her chair in concern, but Revan was there before her; he strode over to Bastila and took her in his arms without a word, in full view of the Council. Quietly he held her there until the surge of emotion passed and she grew calm once more, her laboured breathing gradually returning to normal.

"That will be enough, child," said Vandar at last. "Hestra has told us the rest. Is there anything more you wish to say to us?"

She shook her head, blinking the tears from her eyes. "No, Master. I beg you to forgive my foolishness, but I will accept whatever the Council decides."

"And you, Revan?" enquired the Jedi Master.

He too shook his head. "I can't ask for forgiveness for what I did, Master," he said sombrely. "All I want is another chance – just to try and put right some of the damage I've done. That's all."

Vandar nodded. "In that case, you may both leave. You will be summoned again when we have made our decision."

-----

The two young Jedi waited outside the chamber for what seemed like hours. Food was brought up to them at one point, but neither could eat very much; instead they sat in edgy silence on their adjacent chairs, close enough to touch, yet barely meeting each other's eyes. When the door finally opened again signalling that the Council had finally ended their discussions, it was almost a relief.

They entered the chamber side by side, not daring to look at each other. Zhar gave his pupil a slight smile, but whether it was meant as a sign of reassurance was unclear.

Vandar stood up as they reached the centre of the room. "Let me not keep you in suspense, children," he said. "We have discussed both your cases, and we have come to a decision."

The pause only lasted a second. To the anxious pair, however, it seemed like an age before he finally spoke the words they had been waiting for: "Both of you are to remain in the Order, and be promoted to the rank of Jedi Knight."

Revan's heart missed a beat, and Bastila's head jerked up. "A Knight?" She sounded astonished, almost indignant. "Master, you – you can't! I failed the Order, I betrayed the entire Republic. How can I be worthy of a Knighthood?"

"On the contrary, Bastila," countered Vandar, "you showed great courage and loyalty under extremely difficult circumstances. As for your fall, I very much doubt that you will make the same mistake again." He eyed the former Dark Lord. "Nor you, Revan."

Bastila bowed her head in submission, but Revan knew they weren't finished yet. "Master," he began, "Bastila and I – "

There were nods from several of the Councillors. "We are not blind, Revan," said Hestra with a faint smile.

"Such a love is dangerous," Vandar said gravely. "And yet... all of us have seen how strongly the Force binds you to each other. We have decided it would be best to let you stay together... on one condition." They waited with bated breath.

"You must undertake no further missions together," continued Vandar. "Both of you will still be greatly needed in the fight against the Sith. You will see each other whenever you have leave to return to Coruscant." He paused briefly. "Do you accept these conditions?"

Bastila and Revan looked at each other in silent dismay. Were they to be separated again so soon? But they both knew that they couldn't ask for anything more; the Council had already bent the rules on their behalf. Slowly, as one, they turned back to Vandar and nodded.

"Good." For the first time, the small Master's face broke into a wide smile. "But first you must rest and recover from your mission. Did we say a month, Hestra?"

"At least a month," she replied firmly. "The last thing we want is for either of them to collapse in the middle of a battle."

"So be it." Vandar waved a hand towards the door as it slid open. "May the Force be with you, young ones."

-----

They walked in silence through the wide, echoing halls of the lower Temple, Revan conscious of a strange numbness inside him. He hardly knew what he should be feeling – happiness? Relief? He glanced at Bastila to try and gauge her thoughts, but she looked more dazed than anything else; her eyes stared blankly ahead, riveted on some imaginary point in the distance.

They were passing one of the gardens now – a tranquil-looking circular courtyard, with a central fountain overlooked by tall, shady trees – and on a sudden impulse he turned aside and beckoned her to follow him out through the door. They walked over to one of the benches, where he sat down next to her and took her hands in his, holding them gently in his lap. Slowly she raised her head to look at him, finally meeting his eyes for the first time.

"It is over, isn't it?" she murmured.

He squeezed her hands in his. "Yes, it's over. For the moment, at least."

She nodded and let out a long, shaky breath, as if she had been holding it in all morning. "I'm sorry for behaving like this," she said wearily. "But I'm so tired." For the first time he noticed the dark rings around her eyes; she must barely have slept that night. "I'm so tired," she said again, her voice close to a whisper. "Sometimes I thought all this would never end..."

Revan stared at her in consternation. To his profound shame, he realised that he had hardly even thought about what her recent life must have been like for her. Shouldered with the enormous burden of being the Republic's last line of defence; mercilessly hunted across the galaxy by a ruthless megalomaniac; bonded against her will to the former Dark Lord, a man who repelled and attracted her in equal measure; and finally, forced to bear the responsibility of keeping both of them from the Dark Side, even while she herself was still an apprentice. It would be all too easy to blame the Council for treating her in that way, but that would simply be shutting his eyes to the ugly truth: that he himself, more than anyone else, was responsible for everything she had suffered over the past two years.

And yet she had never complained, not once, nor shown the slightest sign of resentment towards him for stealing away years of her life. How bitterly he wished that he could take back all the times he had mocked her, or laughed at her, or thoughtlessly said or done something to cause her pain. But it was too late for recriminations now; as he himself had pointed out, what was done couldn't be undone.

"How did you cope?" he asked, in genuine bewilderment. She shrugged and stared down at her hands again.

"It wasn't so bad, Revan," she said at last. "Truly. I simply had to trust in the Force." She sighed. "I kept telling myself that when the Sith were finally defeated, everything would go back to normal."

Revan's mind flashed back a conversation he had had with her near the beginning of their acquaintance, not long after their arrival on Dantooine. He had asked her if she was happy with her life as a Jedi, and on receiving an ambiguous answer, had pressed her to say what would make her happy. "Peace," she had replied, "and safety... and being with people I know can trust." At the time he had dismissively remarked that this didn't sound like much of a life; now, however, he could understand all too well.

"I'll make it up to you," he mumbled, though in his heart he knew that it was impossible. The things she had suffered would always be a part of her, just as his dark past would always be a part of him.

"You don't need to make up for anything," she said gently. "You always treated me well, even when I behaved appallingly to you." She half-closed her eyes, thinking back, and winced. "The worst thing was not being able to tell you who you were. I felt as if everything we had was based on a lie."

Much as he hated being deceived, he couldn't blame her for it. "Bastila, why did you save me?" he suddenly blurted out. "I mean, when I was the Dark Lord. Was it really just because of your orders?"

"No. No, it was..." She hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Do you remember when you first saw me on the Rakatan temple, after I fell to the Dark Side?"

He remembered all too well. He'd known immediately that something was wrong; she'd blocked his attempts to sense her through their bond, and there was something in her eyes... "You were different," he mused. "It was like looking at... a clone of some sort, or an identical twin. You didn't feel like the person I knew..."

She nodded slowly. "That's how I felt when I faced you on the ship. It was you, and yet... somehow, it wasn't."

"But you still..."

She grimaced. "I'll admit there was a moment when I thought it might be better for everyone's sake to let you die," she confessed. "But when I took off your mask and saw you... I knew I couldn't. I knew there had to be a chance that they could bring you back."

"And now?" he asked softly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Am I like the Revan you knew back then?"

She gazed into his face for a moment, trying to compare it with the images of the Revan she had known as a young girl. Older, less incorrigibly self-assured, perhaps wiser... but still with the same warmth, the same strength and kindness. The same man who, so many years ago, had taken pity on a spoiled, silly little girl and helped to turn her into a Jedi.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I realised that on Kashyyyk. Do you remember that night you were wounded by the terentatek?"

He nodded, wincing at the memory. "How could I forget?"

"I was terrified," she said in a low voice. "I was so afraid of losing you again. By the end of that night, I knew I was still in love with you..."

Revan saw the haunted look in her eyes, and something inside him suddenly snapped. He caught her up in his arms and hugged her almost savagely against him, crushing her lips against his, wanting only to give her back some of the peace and security she had sacrificed for his sake. She responded with a passion he hadn't felt in her since the Star Forge, and for several minutes they simply held each other close – warm and safe in the knowledge that for now, at least, nothing more could come between them.

"Sheesh, you guys, get a room!" The sudden realisation that they were being watched had the same effect as a shower of cold water. They broke apart hastily to see Mission Vao standing in front of them, rolling her eyes with a mixture of amusement and disgust.

"I've been looking for you two everywhere," she continued, oblivious to their embarrassment. "Bastila, I brought these for you." She withdrew her hand from behind her back to reveal an enormous, very expensive-looking bouquet of flowers. "Because you've been... ill."

Bastila stared at the flowers in astonishment, a lump beginning to form in her throat. She guessed that this was largely a peace-offering, motivated by guilt and pity rather than affection, but she couldn't help feeling very touched. She knew that none of the others liked her very much, and she also knew that this was largely her fault; the last thing she had expected from any of them was a gesture like this.

"They're beautiful," she murmured, with a slight catch in her voice. "Did you buy these, Mission?"

The young girl looked at her in disbelief. "Hey, I'm not a millionaire! We all paid for them. Except the droids, of course."

Bastila raised her eyebrows. "Even Canderous?"

"Yep, even Canderous." She grinned. "He kicked up a stink about it, but he still paid up. I think hearing about the medal ceremony put him in a good mood."

Revan and Bastila looked at each other, then back at Mission. "Medal ceremony?" they said in unison.

"Sure! You mean they haven't told you yet?" She looked astonished. "They have to give us something in return for saving the galaxy, don't they? Anyway, I'd better get going. I promised Big Z we'd take a tour of the 'real' Coruscant, if you know what I mean."

She spun round with a flick of her head-tails and ran off into the building. Revan looked questioningly at Bastila, who shook her head. "Please don't ask me. I assume someone will explain it to us sooner or later."

He shrugged and nodded. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked, after a while.

"Well, first I would like something to eat," she said, making Revan suddenly realise how hungry he was himself. "And then I should go and visit my mother in hospital. Will you come with me, Revan?"

A meeting with Helena Shan? Revan couldn't hide a grimace; all at once the Council's interrogation seemed like a cakewalk in comparison. "Can I bring HK with me?" he asked drily.

For the first time in days, Bastila found herself laughing. "Oh, Revan." She shook her head affectionately. "You faced down the Dark Lord of the Sith and yet you're afraid of my mother?"

"At least I had a way to fight Malak," he joked, then grinned and laid an arm around her shoulders. "Just kidding. Of course I'll come with you." He leant in to kiss her once more, no longer caring who saw them. Then, hand in hand, they stood up and walked back across the courtyard towards the Jedi Temple.


	5. Epilogue

A/N: I've had several requests recently for a novel-length retelling of KOTOR, but unfortunately the chances of that happening are pretty minimal (I've explained why in my profile). However, I will be writing more short stories in the near future.**

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**Epilogue**

The clink of glasses mingled with the sounds of chattering and laughter inside the Black Rakata enclave, where the former crewmembers of the _Hawk_ were celebrating the success of their mission. The Rakata had proved remarkably amenable to having their planet taken over for the medal ceremony; perhaps they simply wished to show goodwill towards the Republic, which had already begun negotiations with the Elder Council. Or perhaps they were genuinely grateful to Revan for destroying the Star Forge, finally lifting the dark curse which had plagued their world for so long.

Revan was standing alone in a corner, mesmerised by the traditional Rakata drum beats emanating from the next room, when he felt a tap on the shoulder. "Another drink?" proposed Carth, good-humoured and affable after several glasses of Tarisian ale.

"Why not?" He handed his glass to Carth, who poured him out another generous measure of ale. "What did you think of the Admiral's speech?" he asked his friend.

Carth screwed up his face. "Usual crowd-pleasing nonsense," he muttered, then coughed loudly. "Erm... I mean a fine, inspiring speech, of course."

They were interrupted by a burst of laughter from the other side of the room, where Jolee stood in conversation with Mission and Canderous. Carth nudged Revan furtively and lowered his voice. "Is it true that Jolee's thinking of going back to the Order?"

A faint grin spread over Revan's face. "So I've heard, but he's not letting on to any of us." He shrugged and took another gulp of his drink. "What about you – are you off to Telos after this?"

Carth nodded, his expression softening a little. "Yeah," he said simply. "I've got a whole lot of stuff to sort out with Dustil. I was away from home for far too long."

"Well, good luck," answered the Jedi with considerable feeling. He didn't envy his friend the task ahead; from what he had seen, young Dustil Onasi had a chip on his shoulder the size of a small planet. But at least Carth now had a chance to mend his relationship with his son, after so much time with nothing to live for but revenge.

They sipped their drinks quietly for a little while. "And what about you and Bastila?" asked Carth after a minute. "Have you two made any plans?"

A dark cloud passed over Revan's face. "It's really too early for that," he said soberly. "We've only got a few more weeks together. I don't think we can take any major decisions until after the war." He hardly needed to state the obvious: that it was far from certain whether either of them, let alone both, would survive that long.

Carth nodded understandingly. "Well, at least the Council didn't force you apart," he pointed out, then glanced around the room. "Where is Bastila, anyway?"

Revan looked around at the other party-goers. All his other friends were there, but Carth was right: Bastila was missing. He tried searching for her through the Force; she was still in the area, not too far, but some distance away from the enclave. "She's gone out," he said with a resigned shrug.

"Not much for socialising, is she?" muttered Carth. His brow wrinkled slightly in concern. "Look... she is going to be OK, right?"

"I think so," the Jedi answered quietly. "But it'll take a while." He took a last, wistful glance at his half-finished glass of ale, then laid it aside on the table and took up his robe. "I guess I'd better go and find her."

-----

Bastila sat by herself on the secluded central beach, gazing out to sea. Her fingers trailed absent-mindedly through the soft, powdery white sand as she watched a flock of birds wheel and dive overhead, silhouetted against the setting sun. Every now and then she would glance down at the small medal pinned to her tunic, finger it for a moment, and heave a sigh of vague, intangible discontent before turning her attention back to the clouds above.

As always, she sensed Revan's approach long before she could see or hear him. She did not look round, however, but waited until his footsteps came to a halt beside her and she felt his hand ruffle her hair. "Not in a party mood?" he enquired, crouching down next to her. 

She shook her head. "I didn't want to take you away from the others, Revan."

"I'd rather be with you anyway," he said gallantly. She smiled a little, but made no reply. "Is something the matter? Or did you just want to be alone?"

"There's nothing the matter, really. It's just..." She sighed again, trying to find the words to convey her thoughts. "All this adulation, the medals... it doesn't seem right. Not after what we did."

He sat down in the sand beside her, covering her hand with his. "I know what you mean," he said quietly.

"I can still feel the darkness inside me sometimes. The taint..." A slight shiver ran through her, despite the warmth of the evening. Revan slid his arms round her and drew her back against him, holding her lightly around the waist.

"It'll take time, Bastila," he murmured into her ear, and she nodded ruefully. "Anyway," he continued, "you deserve this a hell of a lot more than I do."

"Do I? I don't know any more." Her voice was distant, brooding. "I'm not as sure of anything as I used to be. It could be that Carth was right after all..."

Revan looked at her blankly. "About what?" he asked, puzzled.

"About the war," she explained. "Who knows; if you hadn't done what you did, maybe we really would all be speaking Mandalorian now."

"Maybe there is no right answer," he said softly. She nodded again and leaned her head against his shoulder. Both of them lapsed into silence for a while, watching the sun gradually sink towards the horizon.

After a while she felt Revan tense slightly, as if he were preparing himself to say something unpleasant. "Bastila," he began eventually, "may I ask you a favour?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "What kind of favour?"

He hesitated a moment before replying. "It's just that I know almost nothing about myself," he explained at last. "Would you mind telling me some things about what I was like before the war? I would ask one of the Masters, but they're far too busy."

"Of course I will," she replied, astonished that he would regard this as a 'favour'. "Why would I mind?"

He shrugged. "I thought it might be painful for you, that's all."

"To think about happier times? No, not in the least." She paused for a moment. "What would you like to know?"

"Well, we could start with my second name," he said with a slightly ironic smile. "Do I even have one, for that matter?"

She laughed, and then suddenly grew more thoughtful. "Do you know, I'm not actually sure," she admitted. "People hardly ever used your surname – I don't think you liked it very much. I think you once told me you were named after a ship..."

"A starship?"

"Yes." She thought for a minute, and then all of a sudden it came to her. "Skywalker," she said firmly. "That was your name. Revan Skywalker."

_Skywalker_. A bit of a strange name, perhaps, but it could have been a lot worse... "Thanks," he replied, with unaffected gratitude. "It's nice to know at least something about myself that isn't a complete invention."

Bastila realised how hard it must be for him, trying to piece together the details of a life he couldn't even remember. She gently reached up to stroke his face, a sudden tenderness welling up inside her. "What else would you like me to tell you?" she murmured.

Revan looked down at her. She felt soft and warm in his arms, and the sun's dying rays cast a rosy glow over her face, adding a tinge of colour to her fair skin. At that moment she looked lovelier in his eyes than he had ever seen her before, and suddenly the distant past was the last thing he wanted to think about. "Maybe some other time..."

She was beautiful, perfect. He wanted to lay her down, there in the smooth ripples of sand, and make her utterly his. More than ever before he hated those faceless, anonymous men who had hurt her so badly; he adored her, yet he hardly dared to touch her for fear of re-opening the wounds they had inflicted. She was nothing to them, but everything to him – and now he was paying the price for their cruelty.

Bastila felt the yearning that he couldn't hide, and her heart swelled with pain; she knew she could trust him not to harm her, but the dreadful memories were still too vivid and too powerful. "One day," was all she could promise him, and he nodded in quiet resignation. _One day..._

He spread out his cloak on the sand and lay back on it, gazing up into the sky. Darkness was falling, but it was a calm, peaceful darkness that held no fear. Bastila snuggled up against him, slipping an arm around his waist, and he felt her warm lips graze his neck.

Together they lay there, at peace with the Force and each other, as a burst of fireworks exploded over the Rakata enclave and mingled with the stars.


End file.
